


Love for a Season

by aislingdoheanta, Justgot1



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justgot1/pseuds/Justgot1
Summary: Steve accidentally wanders into the Underworld and decides he's staying, much to the chagrin of the resident god of the Underworld.





	Love for a Season

* * *

In hindsight, Steve might have thought he was dreaming because it hadn’t felt like he had wandered into another plane. It just felt like he wandered into a dark part of a forest that he was pretty sure hadn’t been there when he had been exploring minutes ago. 

One minute he was beside this beautiful, quiet stream in a meadow filled with wildflowers and the next he was in a dark forest. 

Steve was the type of person to just go with it. He’d spend a lot of his childhood fighting the illnesses that he had and it didn’t help. And then he had tried to fight his mother’s illness, but that didn’t help either. So he decided to stop fighting it all and just let whatever happened, happen. 

He wasn’t destined for great things. He was an underpaid graphic designer who could barely survive the winters in New York. He knew that he should probably move somewhere a bit warmer with a different climate that might help his chronic pneumonia and allergies, but he didn’t have the heart to leave. 

His mother was here. No matter what, Steve couldn’t just leave her. 

Besides, he’d lived in New York pretty much his entire life and he wasn’t about to be run out of town just yet. 

Yet apparently, that’s exactly what had happened, albeit by accident. The dark forest gave way to rooms that had walls that looked like caves or tree bark. 

_ Maybe I’m unconscious somewhere _ , Steve thought to himself because honestly what else was he going to think? 

He continued to follow the small, worn path. It was the only thing that looked disturbed here and whatever Steve was meant to do here, he figured it would be at the end of this little road. 

Eventually, after minutes or hours—it’s hard to tell in a dream—Steve found his way to the center of this place. There was a massive river swirling around with little foot bridges crossing over it. A large, ornate chair sat near the middle. It was dark and looked to be made of that same dark material that the walls were made of. There were spirals and lines scratched into the chair and support that made it look just like bark from a tree. Steve tried to remind himself to try and draw that chair when he woke up.  

Steve spent the next bit of time wandering around, careful not to disturb too many things because he wasn’t entirely sure what this dream was supposed to be telling him. He found his way to a large room that was set-up to resemble a bedroom, complete with a massive bed and Steve’s eyes grew tired just looking at it. He’d been wandering for so long that perhaps a nap was in order. It wasn’t like there was anyone else here. Steve hadn’t seen a single person or living creature since he wandered down here. 

His mind made up and limbs heavy, Steve climbed into the bed and fell into an exhausted sleep. 

* * *

* * *

 

Steve woke up and felt relaxed and refreshed in a way that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Perhaps he’d never felt that way. So he got up and thought about looking for something to eat when he realized that he really wasn’t hungry. 

_ Must not have slept very long then _ . 

Steve stretched and rolled himself out of the bed. A figure materialized from the wall and Steve  _ nearly _ shrieked. 

“What are you doing here?”

The figure—it was a man so he had probably just been leaning against the wall and Steve hadn’t noticed him until he moved. “I live here.”

The man’s voice was gruff, almost like he was getting over a cold and his eyes looked wary.

“Oh,” Steve said. “Sorry. I just…was so tired that I needed to take a nap. I hope I didn’t put you out.” 

The man frowned t him. “How did you get here?” 

“I’m not entirely sure,” Steve admitted. “But it was something through the clearing by the river..” 

“What?”

“Yeah. I remember wandering through this place when I was younger. My mom called it the meadow even though it wasn’t really. We’d come to it and pick wild-flowers. I was doing that yesterday and then suddenly I was in this cave home-thing,” Steve told him. “I didn’t know people could live in caves.” 

“You have to leave,” the man told him, his voice hard. 

“Sure, pal,” Steve said, though he had no intention of leaving until he explored the rest of this cave. It was pretty cool, though sad that this man clearly lived here alone. Steve’s therapist might try and tell him that this was a metaphor for himself and how he closed himself off to people. But this man didn’t remind Steve of himself. 

Steve shuffled out the doorway and wasn’t surprised when the door slammed shut on him. He didn’t pay it too much attention as he wandered around down in the cave. 

The stream had an almost hypnotic quality to it and Steve found himself drawing closer to it, desperate to see what was inside when he was disrupted by loud barking. Steve turned toward the sounds and felt himself take a step back. 

There was a large three-headed dog staring at him. It had stopped barking at Steve, but all three pairs of eyes were trained on him. The tail was wagging gently and it looked almost eager for Steve to go over there. 

“All right, doc, what would a three-headed dog symbolize? My guarded heart? My inability to let my guard down? The fact that I work with my childhood imagination somehow?” Steve said out loud as he wandered closer to the dog. It wasn’t  _ massive _ , but it was large. It practically dwarfed Steve. 

He reached out his hand and let all three heads sniff at it before reaching up and petting the nearest head. The dog bowed the heads so Steve didn’t have to stand on his tippy toes and reach to pet it. 

“You are a good dog, aren’t you?” Steve said quietly. The dog seemed to sigh happily at that, though how Steve knew that he had no idea. He’d never had a pet. He hadn’t really been able to because his allergies wouldn’t have allowed it. 

Steve took a step back. His allergies weren’t bothering him and he was petting this dog. “I can’t believe I was able to come up with this place.” 

It had to be a type of dream that showed Steve all the things he’d wanted in life but had never been able to get. A gentle dog. A beautiful estate—though probably not loving that it’s in a mountain somewhere. An attractive man—if Steve was being honest. Though the last thing could have been anyone who’d want Steve and he wouldn’t have complained. 

“Maybe my therapist was right,” Steve said to the dog, resuming his petting. “Maybe I am incredibly lonely. I mean, I dreamed up a place that should feel isolating but it just feels…comfortable.” 

Steve sat with the dog for a while longer, thinking of what he wanted to do. 

“You know what?” he asked the dog. He received a small nudge in return. “I don’t think I want to leave. I like it here, wherever here is. And if it’s a dream, no harm done, right?”

Steve got up, patted each head once more, and then carried on his tour of the place. 

After you got over the shock of the cave walls and darkness, it really was quite lovely. The walls had a beautiful pattern that Steve knew every decorator and remodeler would try and replicate for thousands of dollars and it would never look right. The lighting was eerie at first, but now it reminded Steve of a setting sun. It was less like sunlight and more like sunbeams casting a gentle glow. It was gorgeous. 

The stream also must have had some sort of lighting effect at the bottom because there seemed to be a sort of glow emanating from it. That effect was a little strange but it was really amazing too look out and see it stretch as far as he could see. It should have felt overwhelming, to see how huge this place was, but it wasn’t. It felt almost like an adventure, one that Steve had never been able to really have. 

It wasn’t long until he found the man from earlier, though this time he was sitting in the chair that Steve had seen the night before. Steve stared at him until the man shifted his gaze back to him. His eyes widened a bit before he squinted a bit. 

“You need to leave,” he said. 

Steve shrugged as he walked up to the man. “I like it here.”

“But…you can’t be here,” he said, his voice losing a bit of its hardness in the confusion he wore on his face. 

“Why not?” Steve asked. “You’re here.” 

“Of course, I’m here,” the man said. “I own this place.” 

“You do?” Steve asked. “It’s really beautiful here.” 

The man frowned again. “It is?” 

“Yeah,” Steve told him. “I mean, a dark cave-like atmosphere might be claustrophobic or depressing but it’s so open and vast. And the lighting effects that you have are just gorgeous. It makes me want to use watercolors to capture it.” 

The man puzzled over Steve’s answer to himself for a minute while Steve just stood there. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was waiting for, but he felt like if he could just wait this man out, they’d reach an accord of sorts.  

“No one’s ever said that before,” he finally said quietly. 

“That’s just because they can’t appreciate beautiful things,” Steve told him honestly. 

“Well, people don’t typically come to visit,” the man said. “They usually only come when they want something and then storm off when they can’t have it.” 

“That must be frustrating,” Steve told him. “Having people only come over when they want something from you.”

“It is,” the man agreed. “I understand where they come from, but I can’t help them. The rules of the dead are set and I can’t change them, not for anyone.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Steve said and then froze. “The…dead?” 

The man looked at him. “Yes?” 

“So am I dead then?” 

“No?” the man said. “You’re human and alive in the underworld. It’s why you’re not supposed to be here.” 

“Oh. I’m really not supposed to be here,” Steve repeated, feeling things shift into place. The strangeness of the location, the suspension of his illnesses, the strange and hazy passage of time. The fact that this place literally came from out of nowhere. 

“Then how did I get here?” Steve asked. 

“You wandered in,” the man said. “I didn’t know humans could even do that.” 

“I guess that makes me special then,” Steve said. The man looked down but didn’t say anything. 

“Why do I have to leave?” Steve asked. “I don’t want anything.” 

“It breaks the rules.” 

“There are rules in place for what happens if a human visits the Underworld?” Steve asked. 

“…Yeah.” 

“But what about those people who come and ask for something. Like immortality or whatever. Are they breaking the rules?” Steve asked. 

“Yes.” 

“So then why can they break the rules and I can’t?” 

“They don’t intend to stay,” the man said slightly irritated. 

“But how do you know there’s a difference? What happens if I stay here? Will your world collapse in on itself? Will it ruin the functions of the place? Will it affect anything other than ‘it breaks the rules?’” Steve put his hands on his hips. 

“I don’t know because it’s never happened before!” 

“Perfect,” Steve said. “Then there’s no reason for me  _ not _ to stay. It’s for research purposes. If something starts happening, then I’ll leave.” 

“But… you can’t.” 

“Yes, I can,” Steve told him. 

The two stared at each other for a minute and Steve was impressed with himself that the man—or god—looked away first.

“What’s your name?” Steve asked. 

“My name?” the man asked. 

“Well, yeah. Like what am I going to call you? If I’m staying I really hope you don’t want me to call you the god of the Underworld the entire time,” Steve said. 

“I…I don’t really have another name,” the man said. 

“Well, let’s come up with one then.” 

The man looked taken aback, slightly shy and confused. 

“How about Michael?” Steve suggested. “Or something a little more modern like Clifford.” 

“No,” the man said. “I’m not being called Clifford.” 

“We could shorten it to Cliff,” Steve said and smiled. The man returned it hesitantly. 

“Maybe something different?”

“Okay, something different. Let me think.” Steve thought for a few minutes over different names he’d heard recently and it was much harder when he was on the spot like this. He met people every day and yet couldn’t come up with any names from his everyday life. 

“What about John? Or Harry?” Steve asked, thinking weirdly of childhood books he grew up with. “Or maybe Fitzgerald? Jay? Or James? Buchanan?” 

“Where are you coming up with these names from?” 

“Well, things I’ve read recently,” Steve told him. 

“You read something recently where the person was called Fitzgerald?” 

“Well, that was an author. I was recently rereading  _ The Great Gatsby _ ,” Steve told him. “People love that book and I never got into it. I thought maybe as an adult I’d like it more.” 

“All right,” the man said. “What about Buchanan? That name couldn’t have come from nowhere.” 

“So that’s a discussion I got into with one of my coworkers over whether any US Presidents ever had a nickname. You know how some of the monarchs in other countries in history had different names. We just went through the list of presidents one at a time coming up with nicknames. We said Thomas Jefferson would probably have been called swivel or something else stupid. 

“We eventually got to James Buchanan and I said maybe Bucky and they laughed and said there was no way,” Steve said. “But I guess that one just stuck with me.” 

The man looked at him and then looked down. 

“Do you like Buchanan?” Steve asked. “I think it’s a pretty cool name. Not many people use it anymore. And it probably makes you sound distinguished. Buchanan, god of the Underworld.” 

The guy nodded. “Um...yeah that sounds good.” 

“All right,” Steve said. “Buchanan it is. Now do you have somewhere I can sleep or are we just going to have to share?” 

“Share?” 

“Well, I’m a human so I’m going to need a little sleep eventually and that bed was really comfortable,” Steve told him. 

“I just have the one bed,” the man—Buchanan told him. 

“Are you alright sharing?” Steve asked. “It’s so big and I’m so little you probably won’t even notice me.” 

“It’s…it’s fine,” Buchanan said swallowing. 

“Okay. I’m probably going to go and turn in. This wandering around and finding out I’m in the Underworld really takes a lot out of you,” Steve told him. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Steve,” Steve said. “I guess I forgot to tell you that part.” 

“Okay.” Buchanan looked down again and Steve just let the man to his thoughts. He really was tired the thought of that huge bed sounded like heaven. 

* * *

 

Steve and Buchanan seemed to get along rather well over the next few days. Mostly because Buchanan kept to himself and Steve rarely saw him. He’d be worried, but the guy was a literal god. He was probably fine.

Instead, Steve spent his days wandering around the world, exploring, and spending a lot of time with the dog. It was really rather sweet and the dog seemed to like him. He had sort of hoped that maybe Buchanan would give him a tour or an explanation over what really happened down here because, as far as Steve saw, there wasn’t anything that ever happened. 

He was sure that people had died since he’d been in the Underworld—however long it had been. Steve still didn’t understand the time here—but Steve hadn’t seen anyone. No people, no souls, no spirits, nothing. 

And he was beginning to wonder where Buchanan spent all his time since he hadn’t been near Steve since their second conversation. 

“You know where he is, don’t you?” Steve asked the dog who just stared at him. 

Steve patted each head one last time and then got up in search for Buchanan. He wanted to learn more about him and this place and he was the only one with answers for both. 

Steve wandered for longer than he normally did, passing the throne-chair and the bedroom he’d been sleeping in. He found a smaller room off the main side that he wouldn’t have noticed except for the quiet noises coming from inside. 

Buchanan was in there, tending to a few plants. Steve’s heart kicked up and he took a few deep breaths because this man was actually incredibly sweet. He had given up his room for Steve. He’d let a random stranger stay—not like Steve had given him much of a choice.

“I didn’t know things could grow down here,” Steve said quietly, leaning against the wall near the doorway. 

“They can’t,” Buchanan said softly. “Not really.” 

“It looks like they’re growing pretty well,” Steve said. 

“I’ve taken them from above ground and then bring them here and slow their death,” Buchanan told him, keeping his back to Steve. “It’s the best I can do down here.” 

“Have you ever thought of having a garden above ground?” Steve asked.

“I don’t leave,” Buchanan said. 

“Never?” 

Buchanan shook his head. He kept his back to Steve but his hands were no longer moving. He just didn’t want to face Steve. 

“I still like it,” Steve said. “I’ve never really given gardening a try before.” 

Buchanan said nothing. 

“Can I ask you something, Buchanan?” Steve asked. He wanted to ask him if he was all right but the man would probably never tell him. 

“All right.” 

“Would you show me around?” Steve asked. 

“You’ve been here a month,” Buchanan replied. “Surely you’ve learned things by now.” 

“A month?’ 

“Well, a month in your time,” Buchanan said finally turning around though he kept his eyes guarded and down. “Here…Time is relative. It doesn’t really pass by but it also isn’t staying still. It just, depends on the person.” 

“Does it pass for you?” Steve asked. 

“Not usually.” 

“So…tour?” Steve asked. 

Buchanan nodded and gestured Steve out of the room. He took him to the wall where the women of Fate were engraved in the stone. Apparently they weren’t called upon very often, but Buchanan still had a way to contact them. That also meant that everyone who came down here also did as well. 

Buchanan relayed a story of young hero-type who’d traveled down here to rescue his lost love. He had believed that if he had called Fate down here to intervene, they would have change his fate to be without his love.

“Did they change it?” Steve asked. 

“Yes,” Buchanan said, his hands carefully folded behind his back. “But only to sever his tie to life so he could join his beloved in the River of Souls.” 

“That’s sad,” Steve said. 

“He was arrogant for believing that he could alter Fate. That Fate would be pleased with someone pestering her for a favor,” Buchanan said. “I tried to warn him.” 

Steve was quiet for a few minutes as they walked along the river. “Do many people come here for that?” 

Buchanan shrugged. “Not as many as there used to be. Us gods have fallen out of favor so not many people break in.” 

“But some do?” 

“Yeah,” Buchanan said. “Some do.” 

Steve looked down into the river and saw the glowing lights for what they were: souls. “Do you think they know what’s happening to them?” 

Buchanan looked over with him. “I don’t think so. They’re just peacefully floating along.” 

“That’s nice,” Steve said. He thought of his mother and hoped that she was at peace wherever she was. 

They wandered a bit more and Buchanan became quieter and quieter as the walk went on. 

“Um,” Steve said, turning toward Buchanan. “Did you know you had a dog in here?” 

Buchanan looked at him strangely. “Yes. He’s mine.” 

“He’s such a good boy,” Steve said. “Do you have a name for him? Or is it them?” 

“Him,” Buchanan said quietly. “It’s...Cerberus.” 

“Is that Greek?” Steve asked. 

Buchanan nodded. 

“Do you know what it means?” 

Buchanan looked down and shuffled one of his feet. “I’m pretty sure it means something like Spotted one or something in your language.” 

Steve looked over at Buchanan and laughed at him. “The god of the Underworld named his dog Spot? That is adorable.” 

“He’s a guard dog,” Buchanan said softly. “He guards the exit of the Underworld.” 

“You are a feared god of the Underworld who wants to grow plants and has a dog named Spot,” Steve shook his head. “You are so adorable.” 

Buchanan kept his head down and Steve just couldn’t stop admiring him. He had been attractive when he’d first seen him, but in a completely untouchable sort of way. But learning some things about him just…It was too much for Steve to handle. 

He wanted to kiss him. Badly. 

Steve hadn’t really felt that way before. He’d kissed a few people over the years, but nothing more and it was more awkward than anything else. 

Steve cleared his throat and looked down. “I suppose I should go and get some rest.” 

“I’ll walk you back,” Buchanan said. 

The walk back was quiet as Steve debated with himself whether to say anything to Buchanan or not. He probably wasn’t interested in any humans, let alone a human who had health issues, never his growth spurt, and was more like a child than anything else. This was a god; he could have anyone in the world, including other gods so there was no way he’d ever want someone like Steve. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Buchanan said softly as Steve wandered into the room deep in thought. 

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said, his mind in million places at once. If he’d been paying attention, he’d have noticed the look on Buchanan’s face at Steve’s new nickname. 

* * *

* * *

 

The next few days passed without incident, though Buchanan did start staying around Steve. They would go and visit Cerberus, though Steve was sorely tempted to just called him Spot. They would spend a lot of time in Bucky’s little garden as he would talk about all the plants that he liked and wished he could grow here. 

And at night they shared the room, though Steve wasn’t entirely sure if Buchanan actually slept. 

“Steve?” Buchanan asked on day as they were sitting in his little garden. 

“Yeah, Buck?” Steve said. 

Buchanan startled and turned to face him. 

“Sorry. Buchanan,” Steve said. 

“No. I…it’s fine,” Buchanan said. 

“Buck’s fine?” Steve asked. 

“Yes,” he said. “Yeah. I like Bucky.” 

“All right,” Steve said, knowing that he had actually called him ‘Buck’ not “Bucky’ but either one was fine. “Bucky it is then.” 

Bucky turned around, keeping his back to Steve and didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Why haven’t you asked for your mom?” 

“My mom?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “You know where you are. You know what I rule over. I just…don’t understand why you wouldn’t ask for her.” 

Steve tilted his head and thought for a few minutes. Bucky kept quiet. 

“Well, you said you couldn’t do anything,” Steve said. “You said that there are rules and you can’t break the ones of life and death.”

Steve thought for a second. “Though you also said that I couldn’t be here, but here I am.” 

“But that’s—“Bucky said. 

“Different,” Steve said. “I know. But I guess I just never thought about trying to bring her back. I miss her, obviously. And I’d like her to still be in my life, but she was so sick. She was miserable for the last couple years and I just don’t want to put her through that again. And I know it might not be like that, but we don’t know. And I’d rather lose her and know that she’s at some sort of peace. Than try to bring her back and selfishly watch her grow sick again.”

Bucky stayed quiet. 

“And I wouldn’t want to do that to you,” Steve admitted quietly. 

“To me?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said as he watched Bucky turn to face him. “You’ve said a lot of people have come petitioning for their loved ones and you have to be the one to say that you don’t have anything for them. Then they blame you and you spend the next few days or whatever it means that time passes here feeling sad because there really isn’t anything you can do.

“I mean, it’s not as simple as just bringing someone back to life. I’ve seen enough time travel movies to know that that always bears more consequences.” Steve said. 

Bucky was just staring at him and Steve had to look down. 

“And…I didn’t want to make you sad,” Steve said. “I know that you are soft and you care and I think it hurts you more than them to say no when they ask you. I didn’t want to put you in that position.” 

Bucky took a step back and Steve was about to ask him if he had upset Bucky when the man strode forward and pulled Steve into his chest. Bucky held onto Steve like a lifeline and Steve could only grasp at him in return. 

It hadn’t ended the way that Steve had anticipated, but it was better, so much better. It was everything he’d wanted and more. 

Bucky pulled away, his hands still gentle on Steve’s hips. “Can I?” 

Steve nodded. “Kiss me.”

And Bucky did. He leaned down, awkwardly bending to make sure Steve didn’t have to strain himself too much. This,  _ this _ was everything that Steve had wanted but hadn’t allowed himself to hope for. 

Bucky was sweet and kind, warm. He was amused by Steve’s stories and loved talking about gardening. He loved his dog and spending time walking around showing Steve his world. 

Who wouldn’t fall in love with Bucky? 

* * *

 

Steve woke up feeling drowsy and sated, though they did nothing more than kissing last night. It made him giddy to think about. Bucky  _ kissed _ him last night.

And all Steve wanted to do was kiss him again. 

Bucky wasn’t in bed. He wasn’t even in the room. He wasn’t by his garden or his throne. 

Steve finally found him sitting with Cerberus and he looked miserable. 

“There you are,” Steve said walking up to him. 

Bucky face visibly hardened. “You have to go.”

The smile slowly fell off Steve’s face in confusion. “What?”

“I told you when you got here that you can’t be here,” Bucky said. 

“But…I thought.” Steve didn’t know what he thought. That a few kisses would somehow be enough? Definitely not for a god that could have anyone. Steve felt his heart beating painfully in his chest. 

“You’re a human. I’m a god,” Bucky said. “Your place in in the world above ground. Mine is below.” 

“But we kissed,” Steve said. His tongue felt heavy and like he couldn’t properly form the words. 

Bucky’s face fell at that. “Don’t you see? That’s why you have to leave.” 

“I can give you more,” Steve said. “I can. I want to.” 

Bucky took a step back from here. “That’s not what I want.” 

“Then what do you want?” Steve asked. 

“For you to leave.” 

“You don’t though,” Steve whispered. “You wouldn’t have kissed me or held me or asked about my mom if you didn’t.”

“I can’t do this!” Bucky said rubbing his hands through his hair. “You can’t just stay here for eternity. You don’t deserve to be stuck here.”

Steve took a step back. “Oh.” 

“Don’t you see? You need to leave. You need to go and live your life and not waste it down here,” Bucky said. 

“I don’t think it’d be wasting it,” Steve said. 

Bucky stared at him. 

“I like it here,” Steve said. “I like being with you. I’m happy here.” 

“You shouldn’t be,” Bucky said. 

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Now you’re telling me how I should feel while also telling me what I should do.”

“I’m not trying to—“

“Yes,” Steve said. “You are. You are doing this under a misguided attempt and idea of how I should be acting and feeling without actually asking me what I feel. That’s bullshit.” 

“Steve,” Bucky said helplessly.

“No,” Steve said. “I want to be here with you. That should be enough for you to admit that you want me here to.” 

“I do but I don’t want you trapped here,” Bucky said.

“I can leave at any time,” Steve said. “I know where the exit is and where I wandered in here. You’ve never once made to trap me.” 

“I’ve been so careful,” Bucky said. “I made sure to hide the fruit so you wouldn’t accidentally eat it.” 

“What would that have done?” Steve asked. 

Bucky was pacing back and forth, his hands in his hair. “You would have been forced to remain here. However many seeds you eat is how long a year you spend here. You can leave, absolutely. But you deserve to live you life and being stuck down here isn’t a life at all.” 

“But if it’s what I want?” Steve asked. 

Bucky startled as if he’d forgotten who he’d been talking to. 

Steve didn’t even give him a moment to think. He turned on his heel and walked away. He knew where he wanted to go and it was to the garden area. 

Bucky followed him saying over and over that he needed to leave, but Steve didn’t even acknowledge him. Steve knew that Bucky was acting out of love for him and desire to see him enjoy his life, but he wasn’t really listening to what Steve wanted. 

Steve wanted him. Steve wanted Bucky and their life together. 

He’d never really been given the chance before to have something for himself and he was going to take it. 

Steve walked right into Bucky’s garden and to the tree that Bucky had always said was dead but that Bucky hadn’t been able to get rid of. It wasn’t dead, but producing the fruit of the dead. That’s what Steve was calling it anyway. 

He pulled one from the branches and held it in his hands staring at Bucky. 

“Don’t do this,” Bucky said. “Don’t throw your life away for this place. It’s not even a full life.” 

“It is to me,” Steve said. “Don’t you see that?” 

“How can you say that it’s what you want?” Bucky asked. 

“Because it’s you,” Steve told him. “I’ve never had anyone I’ve wanted to hold on to as much as you. And you’re telling me to turn away.” 

Bucky stared at him as Steve started peeling the fruit. 

“Pomegranate? Really?” Steve said as he pulled a seed free. “I must love you a lot.” 

He ate the seed, staring at Bucky the entire time. Steve didn’t feel any different, but Bucky looked like a wreck. 

“I need you to see that this is my choice,” Steve said. “It’s what I want. I want to be with you. I  _ choose _ you.” 

Bucky swallowed.

“Now if you don’t want me, I’ll throw this on the ground and spend however much time I have to with Cerberus and you and I won’t ever have to cross paths. But if this is what you want, then stop trying to force me out.” 

Bucky surged forward, his arms wrapping around Steve’s waist and he kissed him. Bucky kissed him hard and desperate and Steve could only twine his arms around Bucky’s neck, just as desperate for Bucky as he was for Steve. His hand hung limp around Bucky’s neck, but his fingers gripped the pomegranate tightly.

* * *

  


**Author's Note:**

> Art masterpost on [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11084733/chapters/24726462) and [Tumblr](http://justgot1.tumblr.com/post/161487759509/love-for-a-season-by-aislingdoheanta-rating-teen).


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